


The Road to Redemption

by Barcardivodka



Category: Robin Hood (BBC 2006)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-07
Updated: 2015-02-12
Packaged: 2018-03-10 23:43:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3307559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Barcardivodka/pseuds/Barcardivodka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>MI6 Officer, Robin Locksley, had no idea that when Guy Gisborne came to him for help, he would give Vaisey's right-hand man the opportunity to find redemption.</p><p>Modern AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> With thanks, as always, to my valiant beta's. I have tinkered with the story since and as such, any mistakes and errors are mine, and mine alone. So please do not steal them.
> 
> WARNINGS: This story mentions trafficking of women - there are no graphic descriptions. It also describes injuries obtained through torture (male). Please proceed with caution if the above may upset you.

Robin Locksley and Tucker ‘Tuck’ Fryer made their way through the early morning bustle of Spitalfields Market as they headed towards Liverpool Street tube station. They garnered no attention from the traders setting up their stalls; no one gave them a second glance as they walked side by side out of the vast building.

They blended in with everyone around them. Except Robin and Tuck were members of the Secret Intelligence Service, MI6 to the ordinary bloke on the street. Neither wore a suit, neither were armed, and they would face the wrath of the accounts department if they tried to claim anything above a tube ticket for their return to HQ.

It was a far cry from the perceived life of an MI6 officer made popular by the fictitious James Bond. There were few adrenaline-pumping, gut-wrenching gun battles, fought over roof tops and in alleyways of far flung countries. No, more than half of Robin’s, Tuck’s and the rest of the team’s life consisted of run-of-the-mill surveillance, running down leads, quick, quiet arrests, and letting the local law enforcement agency, of which ever country they were in at the time, take all the glory.

“We’re being followed,” Tuck said in the same tone of voice he would have used if commenting on the weather.

“Where?” Robin asked, keeping his gaze straight ahead.

“Other side of the street. White, tall, dark haired, he’s doing a good job of keeping people between us and him. I’m only catching glimpses,” Tuck replied. “He followed us through the market.”

“He’ll have to make a move soon,” Robin said, “otherwise he risks losing us in the station.”

“He’s catching up to us,” Tuck reported. “He’s…oh my god,” Tuck stopped walking and stared across the street. “It’s Gisborne!”

Robin’s head snapped round, scanning the milling crowd, quickly spotting Guy Gisborne, who stood staring back at him and Tuck.

The thought that Gisborne looked different was lost to Robin, as with a snarl of rage he ran across the road, uncaring of the squealing of brakes and angry shouts.

Gisborne disappeared down an alley before Robin reached the other side of the road. A large hand painfully gripped his shoulder and stopped him from following.

“Careful, Robin,” Tuck yelled at him,  before heading to the entrance of the alleyway with more caution than Robin would have approached it.

Robin followed Tuck, his impatience clearly visible in the way he moved.

They came out onto a tarmacked courtyard, weeds and wild buddleia reclaiming the unused space. Derelict brick buildings surrounded the courtyard, patiently waiting their turn to be rejuvenated into homes and businesses.

Gisborne stood waiting for them. Robin pushed past Tuck and ran at him.

“You murdering bastard,” he yelled out. He punched Gisborne hard in the stomach, following with a right to his jaw. Gisborne fell to all fours silently. Robin was raising his foot for a kick, when he was yanked backwards by Tuck.

“That’s enough,” Tuck growled, pushing Robin away from Gisborne.

Gisborne was known to be a vicious fighter. He was trained in various forms of martial arts and quite willing to fight dirty to gain the advantage. Yet he had just allowed himself to be hit, twice, with no attempt to defend himself.

Tuck crouched beside Gisborne as the younger man vomited bile, one shaking arm holding him up as the other clutched his stomach.

“Gisborne?” Tuck queried.

“Truce,” Gisborne gasped out.

“You have it,” Tuck pledged, looking over his shoulder and glaring at an incredulous Robin.

Tuck grabbed Gisborne’s arm and helped him to stand, tightening the hold as Gisborne swayed.

Robin took a step forward, a sneer marring his features which turned into a puzzled frown as Gisborne stiffened and took a stumbling step backwards.

“Robin!” Tuck snapped.

Robin held his hands up, declaring his peaceful intentions. He was perplexed by Gisborne’s actions and with the red mist of his rage fading; Robin took in the other man’s appearance for the first time.

Although never a snappy dresser and with an aversion of every colour except black, Gisborne had always been relatively well groomed. He was currently dressed in a pair of blue jeans that were stained and dirty, as was the dark blue cable-knit jumper that was at least two sizes too big for him. His hair was so long it touched his shoulders and was lank and greasy. He was lean to the point of skinny. To be quite frank, he also smelt, very badly.

“I need your help,” Gisborne bit out.

“Our help?” Robin laughed in disbelief. “Why the hell should we help murdering scum like you?” he sneered.

“It’s not for me,” Gisborne growled back. “I need you to organise a raid.”

“A raid?” Tuck interceded before Robin and Gisborne could get into a snarling match.

Gisborne reached behind him, only to have Tuck grab his arm. Robin tilted his head to one side as Gisborne stiffened at the touch and gave Tuck a wary look, but didn’t pull away from it.

Gisborne was loyal to one of the cruellest and sadistic men in the world whom Robin had spent nearly all his MI6 career trying to take down. Roger Vaisey revelled in causing pain and fear and Gisborne helped him spread it. Gisborne was evil incarnate, he was not a wary man, or someone who asked his enemies for help.

Gisborne slowly brought his hand into view and passed a piece of folder paper to Tuck, who let go of his grip on the younger man’s arm.

“Kennington Industrial Estate, Lowestoft, two pm?” Tuck read out loud.

Gisborne nodded. “The estate was brought up for redevelopment, but the new owners can’t get planning permission through. So, it’s been fenced off and left. It’s just outside the town, one road in, surrounded by woodland.” Gisborne paused to wipe a trembling hand across his mouth. “It’s being used as a holding area for women who have been tricked into coming to the UK.”

“You’re starting to sound like you care, Gisborne,” Robin mocked.

“Look, Locksley,” Gisborne snapped, “I don’t care what you think of me. But they are innocent women, thinking they’re coming to this country to do honest work and they’re being sold as sex slaves.”

“How did you find out about it?” Tuck asked.

“Vaisey.”

“Will he be there?” Robin demand.

“No,” Gisborne laughed nastily. “It’s just a business venture for him. He invests and makes a profit.”

“Vaisey told you about the trafficking?” Tuck questioned.

“Not exactly,” Gisborne evaded.

“Gisborne,” Tuck warned. “If you want our help, you have to be honest with us.”

“Isn’t this what you do? Go charging off on your white horses, with your armour shining, saving damsels in distress,” Gisborne snapped back.

“Tuck, let’s go,” Robin said. “He’s wasting our time.”

With a measured look at Gisborne, Tuck turned and started to walk after Robin.

“No,” Gisborne called after them. Tuck and Robin turned back to look at him. “Look, I…” Gisborne ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “This isn’t easy.”

“Yes, it is,” Tuck assured. “Just tell us the truth.”

Gisborne gave Tuck an anguished look. “Vaisey has six full-time staff. One of the maids did something … foolish and he gave her to the traffickers as punishment. I overheard him making arrangements to have her delivered to the holding area.”

“One of your favourite bed warmers was she?” Robin said spitefully.

Gisborne surged at Robin, only stopped by Tuck’s hand on his chest.

“You smug, arrogant son of a bitch,” Gisborne yelled. “Thirty women are being sold into slavery. In Britain. They’re going to be turned into drug addicts and raped by every sick fuck that has twenty quid to spend until they fucking overdose or die from some disease.” Gisborne walked away, turning his back on the two men as he started to pace in anger.

Tuck glared at Robin, who looked back at him in shame.

“Gisborne, I’m sorry.” Robin said sincerely. “I let my … dislike… for you cloud my judgement. But I’ll not let innocents suffer because of it.”

Gisborne turned to look at him.

“I’m not asking for forgiveness, Locksley. I’ll never forgive myself for what I did. If I could free them myself I would, but I can’t. I’m not even asking you to go to Lowestoft, just to arrange a raid,” Gisborne stated.

“What’s significant about two pm?” Tuck asked into the silence that had settled over them.

“Four women are being smuggled in on the two o’clock ferry from Amsterdam. Once they’re all gathered at the industrial unit they’ll be shipped out to their respective…buyers.”

Robin looked at his watch. “It’s just after seven. It’ll take at least three hours to get to Lowestoft and we’ll need to be in place by midday at the latest.” He said to Tuck.

“You’ll do it?” Gisborne asked in surprise.

“Of course we will,” Robin replied. “It might even lead me a bit closer to bringing down your boss.”

Gisborne shook his head. “You might get the buyers, but you’ll never get Vaisey.”

Robin frowned at Gisborne’s words; there was no malice to them, just a resigned truth. Was Gisborne finally worn down by his service to Vaisey? Could they finally accomplished what Marion Knighton died trying to do, turn Guy Gisborne against Vaisey?

“But I will get a maid who just might have overhead things she shouldn’t have,” Robin smiled genuinely.

“You’ll treat her right,” Gisborne warned. “She’s been through enough.”

“For whatever it’s worth to you, Gisborne, I promise, whilst she is in my care, she will be treated with the utmost respect and kindest,” Robin said.

Gisborne nodded. “There should be only four guards at the unit,” he said. “But I can’t confirm that.”

He looked round the courtyard, as if searching for another way out as Tuck and Robin were stood next to the entrance of the alleyway.

“Oh no, Gisborne,” Robin said. “I can’t arrest you and force you to admit to yours and Vaisey’s crimes. Not without the wrath of Vaisey’s legal team being brought down on my head…again,” Robin said sourly. “But I’d rather have you where I can see you, until after the raid.”

“You’ll let me go with you?” Gisborne asked.

Robin paused as doubt started to creep in. Was this all a carefully planned performance to get Robin and his team to a deserted and secluded location? Or for Gisborne to kill the maid? No, as cunning as he was, Gisborne had dreadful social skills; he was blunt and spoke his mind. Robin had gotten to known Gisborne quite well when he was undercover. The Gisborne before him was as genuine as the man got.

“You’ll be coming with us,” Robin confirmed. “Tuck, keep an eye on him. I need to run this past King and get the rest of the team working on it. I’ll need to see if we can bring Gisborne into HQ, otherwise we’ll have to stash him in a safe house until we move out.”

“We’ll be at the café on the corner,” Tuck said. “I missed breakfast,” he smiled.

 

****

 

After speaking to Richard King, the section head of the unit, Robin entered the café situated opposite the tube station entrance. Even at this hour in the morning it was busy, most of the tables were already occupied and there was a queue at the counter. Robin spotted Gisborne and Tuck at one of the tables at the back, and fervently hoped that Tuck had ordered him some breakfast as well.

As Robin approached the table he got a clearer look at Gisborne. He was hunched over a plate of food, a fork in his right hand, as his left arm was curled almost protectively around the plate. With his long hair falling over his face and the rate he was consuming, what looked to be a, full English breakfast, Robin was struck with the image of a starving wolf.

He pulled a chair out and sat down, thankful to see a mug of tea and bacon roll on the table.

Gisborne stuffed a huge forkful of bacon, scrambled egg and mushroom into his mouth, almost choking himself. “Gisborne!” Tuck admonished. “Slow down.” He curled a hand over Gisborne’s stilling the next forkful of food. “You’ll make yourself sick.”

Gisborne gave Tuck an almost feral look. Tuck rolled his eyes in exasperation, Robin guessed this wasn’t the first time Tuck had cautioned the other man.

Tuck let go of Gisborne’s hand, but waggled a warning index finger at him when Gisborne moved the folk to his mouth.

“Finished that mouthful first,” Tuck ordered. “No-one’s going to take it away from you.”

Considering that Gisborne’s cheek’s bulged with food, Robin wasn’t sure the other man could have got anymore in his mouth regardless.

Tuck glanced at Robin and gave a barely noticeable nod towards Gisborne. Robin frowned as he gave the man a subtle once over. He was just wondering if Tuck meant Gisborne’s appalling table manners, before he spotted it. Having curled his arm around the plate, the sleeve of Gisborne’s oversized jumper had slid up slightly, and a ring of bruised skin peeked out.

What the hell had happened to Gisborne? That kind of bruising usually meant restraints of some kind. Who had done that to Gisborne and why the hell was Gisborne so damn hungry that he was almost inhaling food, fearful that the next meal would be a long time coming? Robin didn’t like the answers his brain was coming up with and he disliked it even more that he was starting to feel any kind of empathy towards Gisborne. The other man had destroyed any camaraderie they may have once had when he gunned down Marion. Robin waited to feel the surge of rage he normally felt when he thought of that dreadful day, but as he looked at Gisborne, who was still glaring at Tuck, but eating a damn sight slower, Robin only felt confusion.

“What did King say?” Tuck asked.

“He’s making some calls, but we have a go,” Robin replied. He took a sip from his cooling tea, grimacing at the lack of sugar. “We’ve only got a couple of hours to get a plan of action together; we’ll need to leave for Lowestoft by ten.”

“The local armed police aren’t going to take the lead?” Tuck queried.

“They are. But I want us to be there so we can take the … what’s the maid’s name?” Robin asked Gisborne, who had just shovelled the last of his breakfast into his mouth. Silence reigned for a few moments while Gisborne desperately chewed.

“Meg,” he finally said.

“I want us to be there to provide protection to Meg. She’s the nearest we’ve got to Vaisey for years,” Robin explained. “Unless you want to man up and tell us all of Vaisey’s dirty little secrets,” he couldn’t help but add.

“If I survived long enough to take the witness box, Vaisey would discredit everything I said. I’d get the life sentence and he’d carry as he’s always done,” Gisborne replied with an edge to his voice.

Robin was glad to see that Tuck was as taken back by Gisborne’s answer as he was.

“We can protect you, Gisborne,” Tuck said earnestly. Robin nodded his agreement.

“We’ll not discuss this further,” Gisborne warned. It was the first time today Gisborne had sounded like his old self.

 Tuck and Robin wisely retreated, but they were far from letting the matter drop.

“We’d better head back,” Robin said as he pushed back from the table. “King wants you to take a look at the area surrounding the industrial estate, best vantage points, method of entry, that kind of thing.”

“Me?” Gisborne queried in surprise. “I don’t know anything about such tactics.”

“Yeah, right,” Tuck scoffed. “The Russian’s still haven’t figured out how Alexi Kolkov was assassinated on his yacht, in international waters, ten miles from the coast, with nine staff on board who heard and saw nothing.”

Gisborne just looked at them with an unreadable expression as he stood up from the table. He nodded towards Robin’s untouched bacon roll.

“You going to eat that?” he asked.

“All yours,” Robin replied.

Gisborne had eaten it by the time they had reached the tube station entrance.


	2. Chapter 2

The journey up to Lowestoft was mainly made in silence. They had gotten lucky and had acquired a fifteen-seat minibus, giving the six of them plenty of room. It was the only chance some of them would have to rest.

John Little was driving, as was his preference. Tuck sat beside him, reading some heavy tome, in one of the many languages that he spoke. Michael ‘Much’ Miller was playing Candy Crush on his iPad and Allan was taking the opportunity to catch up on his Open University Degree course work.

Robin shifted in his seat and looked back at Gisborne who had claimed the back seats. The man had finally crashed and burned about an hour into their journey and was now leant against the window, his long body drawn in and hunched up.

Robin settled back into his seat. There had been an undercurrent of animosity towards Gisborne when Robin and Tuck had brought him back to the office, which Robin couldn’t fault, but the team hadn’t allowed it to spill out while they discussed the operation.

Gisborne had shown open shock when Richard King had greeted him with a handshake and thanked him for bringing the trafficking ring to their attention. The phase ‘turnabout is fair play’ had come to Robin’s mind, when the team had stood in awed surprised as Gisborne had shown a razor sharp grasp on tactics as he and the Lowestoft Armed Response commander discussed the operation via video conferencing.

It all added more to the conundrum that was becoming Guy Gisborne. He’d kept quiet throughout the initial discussion, until John had caught him shaking his head when the best point of entry had come up and had challenged Gisborne to come up with something better. With reluctance, Gisborne had voiced his concerns and pointed out an alternative option. When the AR commander had agreed with him, Robin had had to cover a smile at the look of stunned surprise on Gisborne’s face.

At first Robin had assumed it was because Gisborne didn’t want the team to tie him to anymore assassinations, even if it was only by speculation, and had kept quiet about his obvious expertise in tactics and terrain. But when the AR commander had praised Gisborne’s knowledge, he had stood there looking awkward and uncertain as to how to respond.

So it added more questions to spin around in Robin’s head. Why was Gisborne so uncertain of his own skill? Why was he so reluctant to share his far superior knowledge?

Things had taken a potentially dangerous turn as the team moved back to their desks after the conference and Allan had quipped, “Not being funny, but, if we’ve got to spend three hours in a minibus with matey-boy here,” Allan had indicated Gisborne with his thumb, “then he needs to hit the showers.”

Tuck had quickly moved to Gisborne’s side, ready to ward off any violence as Gisborne had thrown Allan a dark glare and snarled at him.

“I do believe you would be far more comfortable if you were to freshen up,” King had injected far more diplomatically. “After Robin had reported in, I had a junior officer pick up all that you may require.”

****

Robin turned his head again to look at the still sleeping Gisborne. A shower and a clean set of clothes had certainly helped. He smiled as he remembered Gisborne’s pained expression as it quickly became obvious that not a single item of clothing was black.

“We’re here,” John called, as he made the turn into the local police headquarters.

Robin looked at his watch; quarter to twelve, they had made good time.

The AR commander, Geoff Patterson met them at reception and took them through a rabbit warren of corridors before entering a light, spacious open plan office.

There were twelve other men in the room in the traditional armed police uniform of black trousers, shirts and boots. Robin shared a grin with Tuck as they looked back at a disgruntled Gisborne in his blue jeans and dark green jumper.

“We like to eat while we do the briefing,” Patterson said. “So, please help yourselves,” he invited as he pointed to a table stacked with pizza boxes.

“Right then, lads, let’s get this done,” Patterson called out as he made his way to the front of the room.

The briefing was more for Patterson’s team, so they could ask questions and get a feel of the area they would be going into. Patterson countered some of the suggestions of different entry points and areas of concealment by using Gisborne’s earlier arguments.

“Okay, any more questions? Alright, let’s kit up,” Patterson said, bringing the briefing to a close thirty minutes later.  “Jonesy, Trump, on armoury, please.”

The room rapidly emptied, leaving just the MI6 contingency and Geoff behind.

“Any questions, gents?” Patterson asked.

Robin shook his head. “You’re lead on this, Geoff. Everything looks good.”

“Your boss managed to get the other agencies to put things into place within the time limit we’re working to,” Patterson said. Operations of this type would require more than just law enforcement.  Social services, border control, and a whole host of other organisations would be needed.  “If you’ll like to follow me, we’ll get you some vests and side arms.”

 ****

Robin glanced over at Gisborne, who along with John and Tuck, was crouched behind a rotting stack of pallets left over from when the industrial estate was full of thriving businesses. Geoff Patterson had his team placed in various positions around the unit identified as the trafficker’s base of operations.

The ferry had docked on time and the women smuggled in on it had been delivered to the unit. The fact that the women had turned out to be young teenagers and had been roughly treated, had heightened an already tense situation.

Two black panel vans had been backed up to sit a few feet away from a set of loading bay doors, the drivers having disappeared inside nearly twenty minutes ago.

Robin, his team, and the AR team were now anxiously waiting for the women to be brought out and loaded into the vans, so that they could take down the guards and drivers without the women being caught in any crossfire.

Robin felt himself start to doubt Gisborne again. The man had been right about everything - from vantage points to the best way to enter the industrial estate - and he was even right on the money as to which unit would be the most likely to be used as the holding area. When Gisborne had pointed out his reasons for selecting the unit, they had appeared logical and genuine.

But was Gisborne really that good? Or did he know far more about the trafficking operation then he had led them to believe? It was only the fact that Gisborne has refused to take one of the Glock-17s Patterson had handed out to the rest of the team that made Robin hold his tongue.

“We’ve got movement, Alpha One,” a voice suddenly said over the comms.

“Hold position until all the women are in the vans,” Patterson‘s voice calmly reminded everyone.

A few moments later, two lines of women came into view, as did the guards and drivers as they pushed and kicked the women forward. Gagged and with their arms tied behind their backs, they were at the mercy of the brutal treatment.

Robin watched as one of the new arrivals broke from the line and ran, unknowingly running towards some of the AR Team. One of the guards raised his gun and yelled at the teenager to come back. There was a blur of red and the man staggered as one of the older women charged into him, using her shoulders to unbalance him.

“You fucking bitch,” he screamed as he gained his balance, his gun pointed at the woman, the teenager momentarily forgotten.

Robin glanced at Gisborne as he felt the other man move. He was just about to make a grab for him when a gunshot rang out.

With shouts of, “Go, go, go,” The AR team moved into action.

Gisborne’s bellow of rage, as he raced around the pallets, drowned out the AR team’s marksman shot as he took down the gunman.

Robin, Tuck, and John charged after Gisborne, who ran towards the fallen woman, seemingly uncaring of the shots being fired around him. Gisborne appeared to stumble a moment before reaching the woman with an anguished howl.

In a little under a minute the whole thing was over.

The guards lay dead and the drivers stood shaking with their hands held high and eyes squeezed shut in terror. The AR team moved towards them, shouting out instructions.

“Tuck. Tuck, please,” Gisborne called out. “Your knife.”

With Robin and John following, Tuck reached Gisborne, knife already at the ready as he bent and cut through the zip lock ties binding the woman’s wrists.

With one hand pressed tightly over the bullet wound in her chest, Gisborne reached with the other to tug her arm from underneath, as Tuck did the same with the other one.

“It’s alright, Meg,” Gisborne murmured to her. “You’re going to be fine.”

Robin had seen enough gunshot wounds to know that Gisborne’s words were a lie, the wound was fatal. Blood was already beginning to pool beneath her.

As Tuck moved away to give Gisborne the tenuous illusion of privacy, he gave a sorrowful shake of his head when Robin gave him a questioning look.

Robin watched Gisborne brushed Meg’s hair from her face as he smiled down at her.

“You’ll be alright,” he whispered. “You’ll be fine.”

She smiled up at him, raising a hand to stroke across his cheek. “You always were a bad liar, Guy.” She panted out. “Promise me … you won’t go back to … the darkness.”

“I cannot give that promise,” he choked out.

Her hand started to fall from his cheek as her strength faded. He reached up to clasp it and held it in place.

“Yes, you can,” she whispered. “Promise me.”

Gisborne shook his head in despair, but said, “I promise.”

Meg smiled as her breath stuttered and her eyes slid closed.

“No, no,” Gisborne cried out. “Don’t die. Please don’t die. I can’t do it alone,” he whispered into her hair. With an anguished sob he clutched her to his chest.

Robin took a step forward, but was stopped by a hand on his shoulder.

Tuck shook his head. “Leave him.”

“The paramedics and the other teams are on their way.” Patterson said as he stepped up to the team. “Was she one of yours?” He asked quietly with a nod towards Gisborne and Meg.

“A different agency.” Robin lied smoothly. “Sorry we couldn’t tell you.”

Patterson accepted the answer with a nod and went back to helping his team secure the area.

Robin knew that behind the scenes a massive support system was rolling into place. There were twenty-nine women to be supported, cared for and counselled, their countries informed of their ordeal and somewhere in the process, their vital statements gently and slowly taken.

Robin and the team helped out where they were needed, but two of the team always stood near Gisborne. The dead men were taken away, the women were medically assessed, and the drivers were formally arrested and taken back to police HQ.

Gisborne remained where he was, cradling Meg to his chest.

“Robin,” Tuck called as he walked towards the shorter man. “They’re ready to take Meg to the morgue.”

Robin nodded, uncertain how Gisborne was going to react. He’d never seen the other man so distraught before. It was obvious from their brief exchange that Meg had had a profound effect on him.

“You do know your man’s been shot, don’t you?” A voice suddenly piped up from behind Robin and Tuck.

They turned to find two paramedics looking at them.

“What man?” Robin queried.

The taller of the two pointed to Gisborne. “Lower right side. Got in under the vest. ”

Tuck and Robin turned back to look at Gisborne, noticing the dark stain on his jumper.

“Crap,” Robin sighed. “Grab your gear, but don’t get close to him until I tell you to.” He ordered. The two medics looked at each other with uncertainty.

“He’s one of you guys, right?” the shorter one asked.

“Today he is,” Robin replied cryptically and not very reassuringly.

“I’ll talk to him about Meg,” Tuck said. Robin nodded his agreement. Out of the whole team, Tuck hadn’t judged Gisborne, never questioned that the other man’s request was genuine and made in earnest.

Tuck circled round to ensure that Gisborne would see him approach. He crouched down opposite him.

“Guy, they need to take Meg now,” he said gently as Gisborne looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes. “She’ll be properly looked after, I promise. In a day or two she’ll be moved to London.” He didn’t add as part of the investigation into Vaisey. “You’ll be able to say a proper goodbye to her then.”

Without a word Gisborne leaned forward and gently placed Meg on the ground, taking a moment to press a kiss to her forehead. He unfolded himself and went to stand up. He nearly toppled over as he straightened up, only held upright by Tuck.

Robin and John were suddenly at Gisborne’s side and held him up, ensuring that Tuck didn’t commit the taboo of stepping over a dead body.

“Let’s get the medics to have a look at you,” Robin said, as Gisborne regained some of his equilibrium and stood without leaning on them.

“No,” he said. “I’m fine.

“Gisborne, you’ve been shot,” Robin argued, pointing to the wound. “You need to get it checked out.”

“It’s nothing,” Gisborne replied, trying to pull his arms out of their hold. “Let me go!” He warned.

“Let him go,” Tuck ordered Robin and John.

“Tuck, he’s…” John started to argue.

“Let him go,” Tuck repeated dangerously.

Robin and John did as they were told. Once free from their hold Gisborne backed away, putting space between them.

Robin took a slow step forward. Gisborne stiffened but otherwise didn’t move.

“I’ll get some supplies off the medics and you can see to your wound yourself before we head back. Okay?” Robin appeased.

Gisborne looked at him and then to John and Tuck for a long while, before nodding his head.

“I’m really sorry about Meg,” Robin added sincerely.

Tears glistened in Gisborne’s eyes and he turned away.  


	3. Chapter 3

Richard King greeted the gang as they entered the Unit. Although approaching his sixties, and grey the major colour of his still thick hair, King was as fit and trim as he had always been. His dark blue tailored suit gave him an almost regal look.

“Robin,” he greeted. He watched with concern as Gisborne slumped into the nearest chair, an air of defeat and despair seemed to roll off the younger man. King looked at Robin and nodded towards Gisborne.

“He’s pretty cut over Meg’s death,” Robin explained quietly.

King watched as Allan handed Gisborne a mug of tea.

“I’ve put two sugars in that,” Allan said.

Gisborne wrapped long, bony fingers around the mug. “Thank you,” he replied dully and frowned into the depths of the hot brown liquid.

“Will we be able to tie Vaisey to the operation?” King asked.

“Doubtful,” Tuck replied. “The two drivers would appear to be pretty low down in the operation. They’ll know where they were to deliver the women, but I expect they’ll just be holding areas for illegal brothels. Each city having one collection point, if you will.”

“Perhaps we should have set up surveillance then, instead of going straight in?” King said. “Waited until the transport arrived, it would have given us more members of the organisation to interrogate, at the very least.”

“No.” Much disagreed. “We did the right thing. We could have lost surveillance on one of the vans and we’d have sent half those women into hell,” he said heatedly.

King nodded. “So, although we’ve put a big dent in a trafficking operation and handed Lowestoft police a case that will get them some positive media coverage, we’ve got nothing on Vaisey?”

“The women’s statements may give us some leads,” Robin shrugged, knowing full well that he was clutching at straws.

Although a resounding success, it got them no closer to Vaisey. The only thing they may have achieved was denying him some profit.

“Right now Vaisey is considered an outstanding member of the community, and is in fact being considered for a knighthood in the next honours list. I want him brought to justice!” King ground out in frustration.

“I’ll do it.”

The words were quietly spoken but they reverberated around the office as everyone turned to look at Gisborne. His head was still lowered as he continued to stare at the mug of tea held clasped in his hands.

Robin opened his mouth to make a comment, but a hand squeezed his shoulder, hard. He turned to look at King, who shook his head and walked towards Gisborne.

It was, of course, the simplest solution, to have Gisborne turn on Vaisey. However, Gisborne had remained stubbornly loyal to Vaisey, the last attempt having ended in Marion Knighton’s murder.

They had no hard proof that Gisborne had carried out any of the assassinations he was credited with. The man was far too intelligent and skilled for that, and he had learnt at the masters knee how to cover his tracks. All the evidence they had was purely circumstantial, which mainly consisted of Gisborne being seen in the same town or city that an assassination took place.

Vaisey was even better at covering his tracks, and although they obtained paperwork and computer files showing illegal activities, none of it could be traced back to Vaisey.

King crouched down in front of Gisborne, took the mug from unresisting hands and placed it onto a desk next to him. Gisborne raised his head and looked at King.

“You would do this?” King asked. “You would give us Vaisey?”

Gisborne nodded. “Yes.” He replied

“Because of what happened to Meg?”

King watched as anguished sorrow twisted Gisborne’s featured. Gisborne lowered his head.

“Because of what was going to happen to those women,” he said. “Because of what has happened to those that have already been lost.”

“You’ll tell me everything. All of Vaisey’s dealings?”

“Yes.”

King leaned forward and gently pulled up the sleeve of Gisborne’s jumper, exposing a wide ring of bruising.

“You’ll tell me everything?” He asked again.

“I’ll not tell you about that,” Gisborne replied. A blush of shame stained his pale cheeks.

“What do you want in return for your evidence?” King queried.

“Nothing.”

“You could incriminate yourself with your testimony. You could end up in prison alongside Vaisey,” King pointed out.

“I know,” was the whispered response.

“You’re tired.” King stood up and placed a gentle hand on Gisborne’s shoulder. “We’ll discuss this further once you’ve had a chance to rest.”

Gisborne looked up at him, a frown furrowing his brow.

“Tuck, Allan, take Gisborne to safe house Alpha Bravo. “ King instructed, turning to look at the two men.

As Allan moved towards Gisborne, King intercepted Tuck. “Get him cleaned up and fed. Then get the doctor to look at him. I want a full report of his injuries. Bring him back here by two tomorrow.” King ordered.

Tuck nodded as he made his way to where Allan was manoeuvring Gisborne through the office door. Tuck had seen more horrors than any man on the team and King knew Tuck had seen beyond Gisborne’s thinner frame and had come to his own conclusions on what may have been the cause.

King turned his attention back to the rest of the gang just as Much spat out:  “What the fuck?”

“You had him?” Much said angrily. “He would have given us everything; we could have nailed him and Vaisey to the wall.”

John nodded his agreement.

“Do you honestly think that what Gisborne can tell us will take only a few hours?” King replied calmly. “The man has been with Vaisey for nearly two decades. Or should we starve him and keep him awake until he’s finished confessing?”

“Yes!” Much responded. “He doesn’t deserve any kind of sympathy or comfort. He’s a fucking assassin. The sooner we can ….”

“Alleged,” King interrupted.

“What?” Much asked.

“Alleged assassin,” King clarified. “We have no proof that Gisborne has killed anyone.”

“He murdered Marion,” Much all but shouted. He waved a hand at John and Robin. “We were there. We can charge the bastard with that, for starters.”

“Marion was shot and killed during a classified operation in a country at civil war. Do you think the Government will allow that kind of information to be heard in an open courtroom, in front of a jury?” King snapped back. “Stop being so blinded by hate and revenge. Do you agree with this Robin? Should we wring Gisborne dry and lock him away for the rest of his days?” King queried angrily.

Robin ran a hand through his hair. “No,” he replied to the shock of Much and John. “I’m not sure what he deserves. But there’s a reason Gisborne has remained loyal to Vaisey and I’m starting to think it isn’t because he likes what he does.”

“Good,” King said, “I may as well tell you then; Gisborne didn’t kill Marion,” he disclosed.

“No disrespect, sir, but we know what we saw,” John argued. “Gisborne shot Marion.”

“I’m not saying he didn’t, John,” King replied kindly. “But his bullet didn’t kill her. Marion died from a gunshot to the chest, fired from a rifle.”

“How long have you known this?” Robin demanded. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Because I didn’t think it mattered.” King held his hand up to ward off Robin’s retort. “It was my assumption that the shot that killed Marion was fired from one of the government troops you were engaging at the time.” He explained.

“What made you change your mind?” Much asked, as Robin paced the length of the office in agitation.

“I received the ballistic report. It took some time for them identify the bullet. It was a .308 Winchester.” King replied.

Robin stopped his pacing. “That’s a sniper bullet.” He stated.

“Yes, it is,” King confirmed. “Someone deliberately targeted Marion.”

“Gisborne could have set it up …” John started to say.

“No,” Robin said. “You saw Gisborne’s reaction. As much as it pains me to admit it, Gisborne didn’t intentionally aim for Marion.”

King nodded at Robin’s assessment, pleased to see that his young protégé was thinking with a clear head. 

“I don’t understand.” Much said. “Why would someone target Marion, why not you, Robin?”

“Gisborne,” Robin replied.

King let out a sigh.

“No, I don’t mean Gisborne, Gisborne,” Robin explained, having heard King sigh.

“Well, that clears that up then,” John muttered sarcastically.

Robin gave John a sour look. “I meant, Marion was targeted because of Gisborne. “

“Because of him?” Much said, unconvinced.

“Yes. Before our cover was broken, Marion said she was close to turning Gisborne. Remember how we used to tease her for thinking Gisborne was a decent bloke and Vaisey had some sort of emotional control over him?“ Robin urged.

“Vaisey must have been worried about the effect she was having on Gisborne,” King added. “He couldn’t afford to lose him to us.”

“And what better way to take back control than to make Gisborne think he was the one to kill her,” John begrudging said.

“So where does this Meg fit into all of this?” Much queried. The others turned to look at him. “Well, it’s pretty obvious Gisborne came to us to try and save her. Isn’t it?”

“She finished what Marion started,” Robin speculated. “She reconnected Gisborne to his conscience.”

“So will Gisborne give us Vaisey then?” Much asked.

“I believe he will,” King replied. “But it can’t be as a full confession to his and Vaisey’s crimes.”

“Why not?” John asked.

“I’m sure it didn’t escape your notice, John, that Gisborne is gaunt, recently smelled like a rubbish tip, and I have reason to believe he may have been tortured,” King replied.

“What!” Much, and John said in near unison.

“If we hand over Gisborne to the police with a full confession, the first thing Vaisey will do is hire a human rights lawyer and argue that the confession was coerced due to illegal methods. Our complicity in such methods in the past has caused us a great deal of harm,” King explained.” The CPS won’t touch it with a barge pole, and Vaisey will once again walk away scot free and we will never be able to bring him to justice. Gisborne will undoubtedly end up with a bullet in his head.”

“What makes you think Gisborne has been tortured?” Robin demanded.

“Besides the weight loss and the shackle bruises around his wrists, nothing concrete, yet.” King replied. “Tuck is getting a full report on Gisborne’s condition.”

“So, how can he help us? Anything he tells us is useless.” Robin said as he started pacing again.

“Not quite. We offer Gisborne full immunity from prosecution for turning Queen’s evidence.“

“Vaisey could still say we obtained the information illegally,” Robin pointed out.

“That’s the tricky part,” King grimaced. “We will need to convince Gisborne to tell us how he obtained his injuries.”

“I don’t get it,“ Much said. “He can just put that in the confession.”

“But Gisborne would be charged with any and all crimes we can prosecuted him for,” Robin explained, “so regardless of how he explains away his injuries, it still makes the confession look forced. If Gisborne gives Queen’s evidence in return for walking away with no charges, it appears to have been freely given and more difficult to discount.”

“So Gisborne just walks away as free as a bird to go on killing people,” John said angrily.

“No, John,” King smiled. “I think Gisborne may be looking for some redemption. That’s why he was quite willing to sacrifice himself to a life prison sentence. However, we can’t have a weapons expert of his calibre walking around at a loose end.”

“So? What are you going to do with him?” John asked impatiently.

“I’m going to offer him a job with MI6.”


	4. Chapter 4

The safe house was in fact, a flat. It was tucked away in a trendy and expensive part of London. It had been purchased decades before, long before house prices had skyrocketed out of reach of the ordinary Londoner. Due to its now affluent location, the flat was used mainly for those that would be unlikely to have a hit squad hunting them.

Although the furnishings were likely to have cost a fraction of the price than those in the surrounding flats, they were well kept and comfortable.

Tuck watched as Gisborne lowered himself wearily into one of the armchairs. He sat hunched slightly forward with a hand pressed against his right side where he had been shot.

“I’ll nip out and get some supplies,” Allan said after doing a quick stock take of the fridge and kitchen cupboards. “Pick up a takeaway as well?”

“Yeah, that would be good,” Tuck replied. “Can you pick up some more medical supplies and clean clothes for Gisborne?”

Allan nodded. “Isn’t the Doc coming to have a look at him?”

“Not tonight,” Tuck replied. “I don’t think he’d be very receptive, do you?”

Allan glanced at Gisborne. “It looks like he’s going to pass out any second. Could sneak the Doc in while he’s unconscious,” he said with a cheeky smile. “I’ll buzz twice and knock once before I come in,” he instructed as he turned and left the flat.

“Allan’s gone to get some food and something clean for you to change into,” Tuck said, settling down into the armchair opposite. “There are towels and a robe here, if you wanted to shower now.”

“I took a shower earlier today. I’m not due another one for a couple more months,” Gisborne replied with a small lopsided smile. It took Tuck a moment to realise that he was joking.

Gisborne changed position in the armchair and squeezed his eyes shut as pain twisted his features.

“Guy, please, let me help you,” Tuck implored.

“That’s the second time you’ve called me that,” Gisborne said, opening his eyes to look at Tuck.

“Called you what?”

“Guy,” Gisborne replied. “Are you trying to soften me up by pretending to be my friend?” Tuck didn’t think the other man was joking this time.

“I said I’ll tell you everything I know. I’ll not back out.” Gisborne justified.

“You could end up in jail yourself,” Tuck pointed out.

“It’s where I belong, isn’t it? Either there or dead; neither one matters to me, not anymore.” Gisborne ran a hand over his face and closed his eyes again.

Tuck debated with himself for a moment before asking one of the more dangerous questions that crowded his mind. “Tell me about Meg. I’d like to know more about her.”

Tuck knew it was a gamble, that Gisborne could and probably would react badly to the request, but he was still taken aback as Gisborne reared up from the armchair with a snarl. Tuck had honestly thought the other man was at the end of his physical strength.

“You’ll not speak her name to me again,” Gisborne spat out. “I’ll not have you dishonouring her by trying to get me to talk. I’ve already told you twice that I’ll give you Vaisey. You keep your underhand psychology shit to yourself.” With a hand pressed back against his side, Gisborne stalked off to the other end of the room.

“Guy, I’m sorry. I meant it sincerely,” Tuck apologised. “I know you won’t go back on your word about Vaisey. I really wanted know what Meg was like.” Tuck stood up from the armchair and faced Gisborne, who still had his back to him. Although Tuck was confident he could take the vastly weakened man down if necessary, it would still be unwise to underestimate him. “I think she had a very courageous spirit.” Tuck added.

“Courageous? She was stupid,” Gisborne snarled angrily as he turned around. “She should never have gotten involved. She was like Marion, seeing something that wasn’t there. There’s nothing in me except death.” Tuck saw Gisborne stiffened and give him a wary look as he spoke the last sentence, as if he’d revealed too much.

Tuck moved towards Gisborne until they were facing each other. Gisborne flinched when Tuck went to gently squeeze his shoulder.

“Guy, Meg and Marion led you to the path of redemption because they saw what you can no longer see in yourself. They saw a man who, despite all the wrong decisions he has made, still had good in his heart and the courage in his soul to face up to his misdeeds and put them right.”

Gisborne heaved out a sigh and lowered his gaze. “You are so full of shit, Tuck.” He said tiredly, his anger having evaporated.

“Perhaps I’m a little … flowery with my words at time,” Tuck smiled kindly. “But that doesn’t make them any less true. Come on, let’s you get cleaned up. Allan will be back shortly, and then you can eat and get some sleep.”

Tuck showed Gisborne the bathroom while he went in to gather up some towels and a robe. He returned to find the other man sat on the toilet seat, leaning forward with his forearms on his knees.

“Do you need any help?” he queried.

“Why did you push me about Meg?” Gisborne asked instead. “Was it to cause me pain, like I caused you and the others over Marion?”

Tuck placed the towels and the robe on the cabinet next to the sink. “No, Guy, I was curious about her. I still am. But my questions were never meant to intentionally cause you harm, or to make you disclose something about Vaisey because I thought you wouldn’t keep your word,” Tuck told him. “When you… when Marion died, the team was engulfed by grief and rage. Anger became the overwhelming emotion we felt when Marion’s name was mentioned. It was a discredit to her memory. I don’t want your memories of Meg to be tainted by bitterness,” Tuck replied honestly.

Gisborne looked at Tuck for a moment before lowering his gaze. Seconds ticked away in the silence. Having seemingly come to a decision, Gisborne pulled his jumper and t-shirt off over his head and let them fall to the floor.

Tuck stared in shock at Gisborne. The entirety of the man’s back was covered in bruises. Tuck moved closer, ignoring Gisborne’s flinch.

“Who did this to you?” Tuck asked, struggling to keep the anger and horror from his voice.

Gisborne just shook his head in response.

The bruising around Gisborne’s shoulders was black, the shade slowly changing the further down his back it went, overlaid with purple, red, and finally yellow edging its way in. Tuck had seen this kind of injury before. It was a punishment technique, usually dealt out to civilians in various countries; it was quick, cruel and very painful

But the technique used on Gisborne was one of torture, non-lethal, if done over a short period of time, but incredibly painful. It carried the risk of organ damage and paralysis, if carried on incorrectly or without the victim having time to recovery between sessions.

It was a simple enough method. A long piece of bamboo was used as a whip. Bamboo had the advantage of only causing welts and would not open up the skin. So strike after strike could be applied, ensuring maximum pain without severe injury.

“How long has this been going on for?” Tuck asked, not really expecting an answer. The bruising was all recent, made over the last couple of weeks. But the advantage of the bamboo whip was that it could be done over and over again. The back divided into sections and each section being whipped every three to four days, the victim never free from the agony. It was beyond cruel, it was inhuman.

“Since Marion,” Gisborne replied softly.

Tuck looked down at Gisborne in alarm. He crouched down and with a gentle but firm hand lifted Gisborne’s chin so he could look at his face.

“Marion died five months ago,” Tuck stated.

Gisborne’s lips twisted in a sad, bitter smile. “I know.”

“Why?” Tuck asked in bewilderment, his hold still firm on the other man’s chin.

Gisborne huffed out a harsh sounding laugh. “I believed you,” he replied, looking at Tuck with self-loathing. “I was going to go with you. I was going to betray Vaisey.” He reached up and pushed Tuck’s hand from his chin and lowered his head. “I would have followed, even after Vasiey discovered you were MI6, but I’d killed Marion. I had nowhere to go except back to him.”

Tuck closed his eyes for a moment and wiped a hand wearily down his face. For the sake of just one more day, Marion would still be alive and Gisborne freed from the evil called Vaisey.

“He kept you chained up and beaten since then?” Tuck sought to clarify, already knowing the answer.

Gisborne nodded.

“God, Gisborne.” Tuck stood up and paced to the bathroom door. He was about to turn around, when he noticed Allan stood silent and solemn, near the door. Tuck hadn’t heard him return.

“Call the doctor,” Tucked mouthed. Allan nodded and disappeared down the hallway. Tuck turned back to Gisborne.

“How did Meg fit into all of this?” Tuck asked gently, moving to crouch down in front of Gisborne again.

“She was the light in a sea of darkness,” Gisborne murmured, as he rubbed a hand back and forth across his forehead. Tuck suppressed a wince at the ring of sore, torn, bruised flesh around Gisborne’s wrist.

“She was little more than a slave,” Gisborne said after several moments of silence. “Her father is in debt to Vaisey and he took her as collateral when her father started falling behind on his repayments. Threatened to have her mother ganged raped and murdered if she ran away or disobeyed orders.”

“Was this standard practice for Vaisey?” Tuck asked in shock.

Gisborne nodded. “Meg was her father’s pride and joy. She had landed herself a place at Oxford. Vaisey likes to watch people suffer. He destroyed Meg’s future and watched her father wither away with guilt. I should have just kneecapped the bastard,” Gisborne added bitterly.

“Vaisey?”

“No. Bennett, Meg’s father.” Gisborne scowled. “His life never amounted to anything. He was nothing but a leech. Meg had everything to look forward to.”

“How long had you known her?” Tuck asked when Gisborne didn’t speak for several minutes.

“I met her a few times over the years. She always smiled at me,” Gisborne replied, perplexed. “She took a few slaps from Vaisey in my presence, but he never did kill off her spirit.” Gisborne smiled. “I found her in the library once. She shouldn’t have been in there. She wasn’t frightened that I’d discovered her. Just asked me what I thought of Shakespeare.” Gisborne glanced at Tuck. “As if I’d know anything about Shakespeare,” he said incredulously.

“When I got back from …” Gisborne shook his head. “I don’t know how he’d found out, but he had. He chained me in the cellar. Meg would sneak in with food and water when he was out of the house. She … sometimes she’d …hold me, when the pain was fresh, and just talk to me, like I was a normal person,” Gisborne said quietly. “As time went on, she knew Vaisey had no intention of ever letting me out, so she stole the keys to the shackles. Vaisey caught her in the cellar with me. He dragged her out, screaming and cursing us both.”

Gisborne ran a hand across his mouth and along his chin. “He came back later, told me that he’d sold her to the traffickers. I attacked him and … well…” He smiled sadly. “I still had the keys, so took a chance and crept out of the cellar later that night. The housekeeper was in the kitchen. I thought she’d give me up, but she didn’t. She helped me. Meg touched everyone’s heart. The housekeeper found me some clothes and gave me food and that note I gave you and Robin. She’d overheard Vaisey talking to the men who took Meg away. Robin was the only one I could think of who had the resources to get her out of the trouble I’d put her in.”

With a crack of knees, Tuck stood up after silence had descended once more.

“Can you manage on your own?” Tuck asked, gesturing to the shower. He knew there was nothing he could say to comfort or ease Guy's mind.

Gisborne nodded and Tuck didn’t doubt him. Not once had Gisborne mentioned the pain he must have been in and Tuck knew he had to be in a lot of it. Add in the gunshot to his side, and Tuck was astonished at Gisborne stamina and resolve, or that he was still standing.

“Get yourself cleaned up, and then we’ll see to your injuries,” Tuck said. “I’ll bring some clean clothes in for you.” He went to leave the bathroom but turned when he got to the door, watching as Gisborne’s rose stiffly to his feet.

“We would have listened, Guy. Like we did today. If you’d come to us after what happened,” Tuck assured him.

Gisborne looked at him with a sorrow. “No, you wouldn’t have,” he replied with utter conviction. “Marion’s death would have been too fresh, too painful. You would have done the same to me as Vasiey did.”

“We would have never done that!” Tuck snapped out angrily.

“Are you sure about that?” Gisborne asked with no censure in his voice.

Tuck let out a deep breath. With a look of regret he left the room, closing the door behind him. **  
**


	5. Chapter 5

“Richard,” Sir Michael Avery greeted, shaking hands with the MI6 Unit Chief. Avery was several inches shorter than King and several years younger. He had kept himself in trim condition, an amazing feat for someone with the position of Attorney General in Her Majesty’s Government. King followed Avery through to an oak panel study, decorated in dark red and gold.

“Drink?” Avery offered, pouring himself a brandy.

“No, thanks,” King declined. “I still have a few hours work ahead of me.” He handed Avery a slim file.

Avery beckoned King into a seat by the ornate desk and then sat down opposite him and flicked the file open, scanning the contents.

“Not a lot here,” he finally said.

“No.” King agreed. “Much of what we have is assumption and speculation.”

“And you want to give him immunity from prosecution because he’s been Roger Vaisey’s right hand man for the last god knows how long?” Avery asked.

King nodded. “We believe he’s been with Vaisey since he was about sixteen. The information he can give us could lead to Vaisey being charged on several offences. It will certainly give us grounds to execute search warrants.”

Avery took a sip of his brandy. “We have to step very carefully, Richard. Vaisey is becoming a very powerful man.”

“A scandal of this magnitude would certainly put paid to his political ambitions,” King countered. “Even if we don’t get a conviction, it would take Vaisey years to recover from the fall out.”

“I would rather see him behind bars though,” Avery said. He pointed to a grainy black and white photograph. “Do you think this chap, Gisborne, can give us what we really need?”

“I do.” King stated confidently. “Guy Gisborne has been linked to several assassinations of key … assets in the Middle East and in Central Asia. Their elimination has allowed Vaisey to put people in with whom he has agreed deals with, giving him control of certain resources and establishing smuggling routes,” Richard explained.

“You will effectively be allowing Gisborne to confess all his past deeds, no matter what they are, and let him walk away a free man,” Avery said. “He’ll never face any punishment over the part he played in helping Vaisey.”

“I believe the information he can give us will be worth his freedom,” King reasoned.

“If he’s as skilled a sniper as you believe him to be, isn’t it a little dangerous to let him just wander off on his own,” Avery argued. “He’ll be snapped by some mercenary group. He could be training terrorists within a month!”

“Gisborne does have some morality, and although his code of ethics might be a little skewed to say the least, I believe him to be an honourable man at heart. Teaching those who would seek to turn that skill against innocent people would be something he would never do,” King stated. “Besides, I intend to offer Gisborne a position at MI6.”

Avery looked at King in surprise. “With you? As a spy?”

“Possibly, eventually,” King replied calmly. “But I would certainly keep him office based until I and my team can teach him how to trust and be a team player. Gisborne’s knowledge in weaponry and sniper tactics would be invaluable.”

“You know, Richard, if I didn’t know better, I would say you’re quite fond of this young chap,” Avery declared.

“I believe Gisborne has been dealt an unfair hand in life,” King replied. “And his true potential has yet to be realised.”

“You need to be careful with this social experiment mumbo jumbo you like to sprout out, Richard. Just because it worked once on that other chap of yours …”

“Allan Dale,” King supplied as Avery looked at him.

“But he was a thief, not a killer. You’ll be playing with fire taking on Gisborne,” Avery cautioned. “You could end up having to hunt him down and eliminate him.”

King smiled. “No, that will never happen.”

Avery gave him a measured look and then dropped his gaze back to the file in front of him, flicking to the first page.

There was silence in the room for several minutes, save for the ticking of a large brass mantle clock, which seemed to grow louder at each passing minute.

Avery eventually picked up a pen and signed his name with a flourish at the end of a neatly typed document. He flicked the file closed and stood up, King followed suit, taking the proffered file.

“This better not come back and bite me on the arse, Richard,” Avery warned.

“A fair amount of Gisborne’s evidence will have to be redacted due to the Official Secrets Act, but I’m more than confident we can get Vaisey on arms dealing at the very least,” King assured.

“You haven’t a misplaced sense of trust in Gisborne?” Avery asked in a serious tone. “He could turn out to be nothing but a soulless killer with no remorse.”

“When my team went in undercover in Morocco they encountered Gisborne frequently and formed a fledgling friendship,” King explained. “Two months into the operation, Gisborne was spotted in Iraq by Robin and Tuck. It was on the same day as the attempted assassination of Aaqib Faris …”

“Aaqib Faris?” Avery asked in surprise. “Who brokered the cease fire in Syria?”

“The very same,” King confirmed.

“But that assassin was shot dead by the security forces,” Avery said.

“When Robin reported in I had him stay in the area,” King explained. “He and Tuck witnessed the whole thing. They offered their help to the security services and secured the bullet that killed the assassin. It was an 8.59mm bullet from an L115A3 rifle, as were the bullets that were fired at Faris as he went to make his speech.”

“I don’t understand,” Avery said with a puzzled frown.

“A second sniper shot at Faris, deliberately missing, ensuring that he was taken back inside the hotel. This mystery sniper then killed the assassin on the rooftop of the school opposite the hotel.”

“What has this to do with your team or Gisborne?” A perplexed Avery asked.

“Robin determined the trajectory of the bullet,” King said. “It could only have been fired from a building two thousand metres away - the same building that Robin and Tuck had seen Gisborne enter earlier that day. There are few snipers who could have made that shot; one of them it seems, is Gisborne.”

“He deliberately missed the intended target and took out a rival assassin?” Avery questioned.

“Yes,” King confirmed. “The cease fire has allowed aid to reach the beleaguered citizens of Syria, and ensured that many can get to safe zones while peace talks continue. In essence, the cease fire has saved hundreds, if not thousands of lives, mainly women and children. If Faris has been killed, it would never have held.”

“So Gisborne was sent to save Faris life?”

“No, Gisborne was ordered to kill Faris. Cease fires are notoriously bad for business if you’re an arms dealer. The assassin on the school rooftop had the same aim. Gisborne disobeyed his orders and blamed the second assassin for spoiling his shot and making him fail his mission.”

“This is all supposition, Richard,” Avery said, finally understanding what he was being told.

“This was the one time, Sir Michael, where my team witnessed Gisborne in action. He saved Faris’s life and in doing so countless others, and kept on track the possibility of peace in Syria. Everyone else he is credited with killing was little better than those Vaisey had installed in their place, but when it came to someone who could finally bring peace to the Middle East, he didn’t take the shot,” King clarified. “That’s why I know Gisborne will be an asset to MI6.”

**  
** ****

**  
** “Ah, Andrew, you’re still here,” King said as he walked into the legal teams’ office. He pulled the signed immunity document from the file he carried and handed it to Andrew Mellor, the head of the department.

“Of course I’m still bloody here,” Mellor snapped out without rancour, taking the document from King. “Do you know how much paperwork is involved in sorting out all you want done?” He glanced at the document as he set it on a stack of files on the edge of his desk. “He signed it then?”

“Yes, he did,” King replied. “Now we just need Guy Gisborne to sign it.”

“He’ll be a fool not too,” Mellor stated. “This will be the only chance he has to walk away from a life of crime.”

“Indeed it will,” King said.  

“I’ve nearly done with the warrants for Roger Vaisey’s known addresses, and for an application to freeze all bank accounts and assets,” Mellor said. “That is, of course, if we can get enough evidence from the statement to get a judge to sign them.”

“I’m hoping Gisborne can link Vaisey to selling arms to known terrorist organisations,” King said.

“Well, that will certainly evoke the Terrorism Act and then we’ll have no problem with the warrants and asset freeze application,” Mellor confirmed. “Best hope Gisborne can deliver then. Otherwise we could be embroiled in legal battles for bloody years.”

“Thank you for working so late, Andrew. It is truly appreciated.” King said. ”I’ll be in my office if you need me.”

“I’ll need an armed guard for when I get home to the missus. She’s going to be pissed,” Mellor said with a smile.

“Perhaps some flowers instead,” King suggested.

“I think a couple of bottles of Pinot noir would soothe things over quicker,” Mellor countered.

King laughed.

 

****

To King’s surprise he found Tuck sat at one of the desks when he entered the office.

“Tuck. Is everything alright?” King asked as he pulled his phone from his jacket pocket, thinking that he must have missed a call.

“Everything is fine, sir. I just wanted to give my report in person and not over the phone,” Tuck replied. “Allan is with Gisborne.”

“Did you manage to get Gisborne to let a doctor look at him?” King asked, as he pulled a chair over and sat opposite Tuck.

“Eventually.” Tuck replied, letting out a heavy breath. “It took some convincing though.”

“How is he?”

“You were right,” Tuck said sadly. “Vaisey’s been torturing him.”

“Damn.” King breathed out.

Tuck filled King in on the injuries he had seen and how they had been obtained.

“The doctor confirmed the wound from the gunshot wasn’t serious. Gouged out a fair chunk, but Gisborne had done a pretty good job at stitching it up. The doc gave him some antibiotics and painkillers to take.” And hadn’t that been fun, Tuck thought. As soon as the doctor had pulled out a needle to give Gisborne a shot of antibiotics, the man had shot off the bed and put as much distance as he could between himself and the doctor.

Allan had leapt towards the doctor ready to pull him out of the room, while Tuck had put himself in front of Gisborne. A short tense standoff had developed as the doctor insisted that the shot of antibiotics was necessary as the gunshot wound had become infected, and Gisborne was just as adamant that no one was sticking a needle in him. Who would have thought that the one thing Gisborne would fear would be needles. Finally the doctor had relented, handing over two antibiotic tablets and insisting that Gisborne took them immediately.

“The doctor says it will take several weeks for the bruising to completely disappear. He wants to do X-rays and an MRI as soon as they can be scheduled,” Tuck added. “Guy isn’t keen on the idea.” Which was a very optimist way of interpreting Gisborne’s emphatic no.

“Vaisey intended to kill Guy,” Tuck revealed, telling King of the conversation he had had with Gisborne. “What’s going to happen to him, once he’s told us what we want to know?” Tuck asked.

“He’ll be offered immunity from prosecution, and after he’s given his evidence he will be a free man. What he does with that freedom is his choice,” King replied.

“His choices haven’t been very good ones in the past,” Tuck said with a small smile.

“No, they haven’t,” King agreed. “That’s why I’m going to offer him a position with the team. A strategist, if you will.” King watched with relief as Tuck nodded his head in agreement.

“He’d be good at that,” Tuck declared.

“I knew his father,” King suddenly said. “He, I, and Robin’s father all served in the same regiment. I was out of the country when he and Guy’s mother and sister perished in the house fire. It was another two years before I came home and Guy had already run away from his foster parents. It was six more years before I found out where he was, and he’d become Vaisey’s man by then. I often wonder what would have happened if I had managed to come home earlier. To have been there to support Guy, guide him, to give him better choices.” King finished sadly.

“You’re giving him the choice now,” Tuck said. “And I think Guy is ready to travel down a different road, towards friendship, achievement, and contentment”

King looked up at Tuck. “You always did have an extravagant way with words,” he replied with a smile. “But I sincerely hope you are right.”

**  
  
**


	6. Chapter 6

“Guy, this is Andrew Mellor, our head solicitor,” King introduced the lawyer as Gisborne was shown into the conference room. Robin and Tuck had accompanied him and King up to the sixth floor room, but had not entered. Gisborne nodded at the other man, but didn’t offer to shake the proffered hand.

It wasn’t that he was being deliberately rude, but his palms were slick with sweat and he was having a hard time controlling the tremor that made his hands shake with nerves.

He pulled out a chair and took a seat opposite the two men, surreptitiously wiping his hands down his jean clad thighs.

“Mr Gisborne I really do strongly advise that you have legal representation,” Mellor said. “I can give you a list of several firms in London who have solicitors experienced in dealing with these kinds of situations.”

Gisborne shook his head. “No. Let’s get on with this.”

Mellor looked like he was going to argue further for a moment, but nodded his head and pulled a piece of paper from one the files in front of him.

“This is an immunity from prosecution form,” Mellor said as he pushed it and a pen in front of Gisborne. “In the terms of this agreement, any and all activities that you mention during the following interviews which may incriminate you, you will not be charged with, now or at any point in the future.”

Gisborne glanced down at the document, then back up the Mellor, and then at  King with a bewildered frown. “I don’t understand; regardless of what I tell you, I just walk away?”

King nodded. “Yes. We are interested in Roger Vaisey’s criminal activities, not yours, Guy. The attorney general has agreed to your immunity in exchange for information about Vaisey,” he reiterated.

Gisborne looked down that document and started to read it. He couldn’t understand why he was being offered immunity. He was willing talk, to answer every question they may have, and was prepared to finally take the consequences for all the wrong he had done. But now he was being offered a reward for betraying his boss and he could confess to everything, to unburden his soul and not have to pay a single damn thing for any of it. Why would King offer him such a deal?

Gisborne picked up the pen and signed his name, pushing both the pen and form back towards Mellor. What did it matter what he signed? He knew it couldn’t be that easy, that King had something up his sleeve. There had been nothing in the document about not extraditing Gisborne, legally or otherwise, to a country where Gisborne’s own confession would be enough to give him a death sentence.

He frowned again when Mellor pulled another pile of papers from a different file and push it and the pen back towards him.

“That is an offer of employment,” King said, ignoring Gisborne’s stunned look. “It’s a five-year contract to work with MI6 as a consultant and strategist. The work will be based in the UK and you will not be permitted to travel abroad at any time. This stipulation will be reviewed after one year’s service. Your current passport is no longer valid.”

Gisborne knew he was staring at King in utter bewilderment, but he couldn’t seem to stop. What the hell was King playing at? Why the fuck would King want him to be part of MI6?

“I’m sorry, Guy,” King said kindly. “But a man with your unique skill set and vast experience will easily find employment. I would rather utilise those skills on behalf of her Majesty’s Government and allow you to build something positive on your clean slate.”

Gisborne lowered his gaze to the paperwork in front of him in an attempt to get control over his facial expression. He just couldn’t find the angle King was working. The man had kept him out of jail and was now offering him a position at MI6. Gisborne noted the annual salary on offer and gave a bitter smile. He could earn more than that in just one hit, and not have to work a full-time job for a whole year to achieve just a third of his normal fee.

“Why are you doing this?” Gisborne asked looking up at King. “You didn’t need to do any of this. You could have just let me suffer the consequences.”

“It’s not quite as simple as that, Guy,” King replied. “The evidence you give has to be given freely and without coercion. If you were to give it with no expectations of being granted some form of immunity, then Vaisey could tie things up in court for months arguing that you had been forced to implicate him. Your current physical state could easily be used by Vaisey’s legal team to make an allegation of torture against us, which would almost certainly see Vaisey walk free, even if you did insist that you gave the information freely.”

Gisborne nodded. And there was the rub. All these offers were to make it look good in a court of law, to get past legal arguments by Vaisey that could keep him a free man. Gisborne picked up the pen and once again signed on the dotted line. It would have been nice, he thought, to have been part of a team. He could have brought his own home, a place to finally call his own. Nothing too large, but with enough space for him to … he viciously clamped down on the foolish pipe dream, pushing the paperwork back to King with more force than he had intended.

King looked at him with a puzzled frown.

“Let’s get this over with,” Gisborne snarled. He’d take what was on offer, and while they investigated and then tried Vaisey, he would live this life. When the day came that Vaisey was languishing behind bars and Gisborne was no longer required, he would accept his fate. He’d let MI6 tie up all the loose ends, which he knew for certain would mean his death.

****

It took four gruelling days for Gisborne to tell them everything he knew about Vaisey. In a voice devoid of emotion he recounted every job Vaisey had sent him out on, every deal he had witnessed. King called for breaks often, making sure that Gisborne ate, and was given time to rest. But it had stirred up so many memories for Gisborne that he struggled to eat, and what he did manage to force down under the watchful eye of Tuck or Robin he vomited back up again. His conscience wouldn’t let him rest as he remembered every face, every name of those he had killed, as he recalled the times he stood aside and watched as others were killed, ignoring their pleas and their anguished cries.

He was so exhausted that he just followed whatever team member was assigned to watch over him and did as he was told. He had to be reminded to shower, to eat, to take his medication. His world had narrowed to the pain and suffering he had caused in the name of loyalty.

It was almost beyond his comprehension when King placed a ballistic report in front of him and told him that it was the bullet that killed Marion. Not his bullet, a different one, a .308 Winchester rifle bullet.

“Guy, do you need a break?” King asked, as Gisborne pulled photographs of the bullet from the file in front of him.

“I didn’t kill Marion?” he asked in confusion.

“No.” King confirmed. “You shot her, but it was determined to be non-fatal. She would have survived the wound. The bullet that killed her was from a sniper rifle, one that fires a .308 Winchester.”

Gisborne shook his head. He hadn’t killed Marion. He rubbed a trembling hand across his mouth; he let a shaky huff of breath in relief. He hadn’t killed her. He moved his hand to push the photographs back into the file, but paused and picked one up, looking at it in greater detail.

He looked up at King with a frown. “This isn’t a .308,” he said. “It’s a self-loaded 7.62 NATO bullet.”

King was just about reply, when Gisborne shot out of his chair with such force that he knocked it over. “Fucking son of bitch!” he bellowed in rage, screwing up the photograph still in his hand as he clenched it into a fist.

“Guy?” King said as he too stood up, just as the door crashed opened and Robin and John barged into the room.

Gisborne looked at King as the rage drained from him to be replaced by a look of utter despair.

“Vaisey,” he choked out. “Vaisey killed Marion.”

“How do you know?” Robin asked before King could.

Gisborne smoothed out the photograph he held. “This bullet came from a Parker Hale C3A1 rifle. It was Vaisey’s weapon of choice when he worked as a mercenary sniper in the early eighties for John Prince. He still has it.” Gisborne leant forward with his hands on his knees, feeling light headed. He missed the look that passed between John and King at the mention of John Prince.

“It doesn’t mean it was him that killed Marion,” Robin said, having moved to stand next to Gisborne, wrapping a hand around Gisborne’s elbow as if he were afraid Gisborne would face plant the floor.

“The rifle was decommissioned in 1984. I‘ve never heard of a hit being made with one since the beginning of 2000,” Gisborne explained. “Vaisey started bringing it to the range with him a year or so ago. He wouldn’t let me anywhere near it.”

Gisborne straighten up to look at Robin. “I cast the bullets for him,” he confessed wretchedly.

**  
** *****

 

 

It had taken two days for Gisborne’s vast statement to be readied. Sensitive information had been removed under the Official Secrets Act, although a full copy would be available for the trial judge to read.  Vaisey was arrested in a dawn raid at his Henley-on-Thames residence and search warrants were executed at all his other known properties. Vaisey was currently being questioned at Reading police station, with John and Much on scene to keep the team updated.

Gisborne had withdrawn even further into himself and had given up even the pretence of eating. He had even stopped taking his medication and Tuck had started to worry that his gunshot wound would fester.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Robin,” Tuck said quietly, making sure he wasn’t overheard by Gisborne.

“He cared for her, Tuck,” Robin argued. “He has the right to say goodbye to her. Her body’s being released to her family tomorrow; he’ll never get another chance.”

“Robin, have you seen the state he’s in?” Tuck countered. “It could tip him over the edge.”

“Tuck, trust me,” Robin said placing a hand on the other man’s shoulder. “Gisborne will get through this. He has to deal with a lot of guilt right now. That’s what reconnecting to your conscience will do to you. Letting him sit and think is the worst thing we can let him do.”

“And letting him see the body of a woman who died because she was kind to him is going to perk him right up is it?” Tuck snapped back.

“No, Tuck,” Robin replied in annoyance. “But he needs reminding that her kindness isn’t rare, and people like her need people like us, like him … well, like him now, not like he was before … you know what I mean …  need people like us to protect them.”

Tuck looked over at Gisborne who was sat staring off into space as Allan chatted amicably to him, caring not one whit that Gisborne wasn’t holding up his side of the conversation.

“I hope you’re right, Robin,” Tuck finally replied.

“You’ll see that I am, Tuck. I promise.”

*****

Robin truly thought Gisborne was going to pass out when the sheet covering Meg Bennett’s body had been pulled down from her face and folded over her shoulders. He took a step closer ready to give Gisborne a graceful descent to the floor. There was also the fact that Tuck would not be pleased if Robin brought Gisborne back with more injuries than when they left.

“Can I be alone with her?” Gisborne asked softly, never taking his eyes from Meg’s face.

“Of course. I’ll wait by the door.” With a squeeze to Gisborne’s forearm, Robin moved away, only to discover that the room had an acoustic quirk and Robin had inadvertently found it; even though Gisborne was speaking quietly, Robin could hear every word clearly.

“I know I promised, Meg, but the darkness is consuming me,” Gisborne whispered. “The light knows that I am a lost cause.”

He reached out and brushed a hand over Meg’s hair.

“I told the authorities everything, Meg. I … I unburdened my soul, wasn’t that what you told me I had to do? It hurts so badly. You should have left me to rot, it was what I deserved.” Gisborne brushed a gentle thumb across her cheek.

“They gave me immunity from prosecution if I gave them Vaisey. MI6 even offered me a job,” Gisborne huffed out a laugh. “I know it’s just to keep an eye on me, until Vaisey is convicted and behind bars. I… I know they’ll kill me, Meg. I just hope they make it quick. I’m heading for an eternity of pain; I was hoping my death would be painless. It’s more than I deserve though, isn’t it?” Gisborne went back to brushing his fingers across her hair. “But it could a take a year or more to nail Vaisey. I’ll have a home of my own for the very first time … for a short while, at least.  I’ll fill it with books and spend every Sunday just reading. If I had longer perhaps I could have taken those exams I flunked when I was sixteen. Don’t think I’ll manage eight A levels like you, though.” Gisborne smiled sadly. He bent and kissed Meg’s forehead. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.”

Robin watched as Gisborne pulled the white sheet back up over Meg and walked towards the door.

“Gisborne, you do know that King wouldn’t…” he tailed off and Gisborne gave him a quizzical look. “It’s nothing. Come on, let’s get back.”

****

When they returned to the office, Robin and Gisborne walked into jubilant room.

“What’s going on?” Robin asked, looking at Tuck and Allan as King replaced the receiver of the landline phone.

“They’ve formally charged Vaisey with illegal importation of firearms and for having links to terrorist organisations,” Tuck filled them in with a smile. “He’ll have a bail hearing in the morning and even with his high-price barristers, he can’t be given bail on charges as serious as that.”

“He will then come to us for further questioning.” King said with satisfaction.

“Not being funny, but we’ve got a shit load of leads to track down to make sure he gets convicted,” Allan  grumbled.

“But we now have the time to do that and Vaisey will be sat behind bars while we do it.” Robin grinned.

“All thanks to you, Guy,” King said. “I know it wasn’t an easy thing to do, but it was the right thing to do,” King said solemnly.

Gisborne just nodded.

“If it’s okay with you, sir, I’ll take Gisborne back to the safe house so he can get some rest and eat,” Robin said, a hint of warning in his tone when he looked at Gisborne.

Gisborne glared back at him balefully.

“A good idea, Robin,” King said. “In fact, I think we’ll all call it a day. We’ll start afresh tomorrow.”

****

As Robin slowed to a stop at a red light, he glanced over at Gisborne, who was staring out of the passenger side window.

“I heard you what you said to Meg,” Robin said, smiling as Gisborne’s head whipped around to glare at him. “King isn’t like that. This really is a chance to start a fresh, Gis … Guy.”

“Other than being able to kill people from long distances, I have no other skills, Locksley. Why the hell would MI6 want me, except to keep an eye on me while Vaisey’s case goes through the courts?” Gisborne replied. “You can just stick me in one of your interrogation cells. Not like anyone is going know or care, is it?”

“You know, Guy,” Robin replied cheerfully. “I’m going to remind you of this conversation in a couple of years’ time and won’t you feel like a prize twat.”

“You can’t be serious?”

“I’m very serious,” Robin said as the light turned green and he pulled away. “You’ve got a lot to make up for.” He gave Gisborne a quick glance. Gisborne really had held nothing back, and had admitted to far more killings than he had been credited with, as well as standing by while Vaisey had committed acts of such cruelty it had turned Robin’s stomach just to hear them, let alone to have had to witness them.

“For every life you took or could have saved, I intend to make you save ten in their stead,” Robin continued. “And that, Guy Gisborne, is going to take you a very long time to do.”

Robin looked over at Gisborne again who was looking at him bewilderment.

“Tonight you are going to eat, take your medication, and sleep,” Robin said firmly, “and tomorrow me and the team and are going to start teaching you what loyalty and trust really means, because Vaisey did a really shit job.”

Robin stopped for another red light and looked at Gisborne.

“This is your only chance at redemption, Guy, to take control of your life and make it mean more than just blood and death.”

Gisborne lowered his gaze for a moment before looking back at Robin.

“Light’s changed … Robin,” was all he said, but it was enough, Robin understood. With a smile Robin pulled away from the light, they had, after all, plenty of time to work on Gisborne’s social skills.

**  
  
  
  
  
  
**


End file.
